


Broken Love

by MonsterColors



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 02:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10207754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterColors/pseuds/MonsterColors
Summary: A new nightmare sends Jesse down a terrible path.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi! Haven't updated in a while, do forgive the horrible input of characters, I'm not very far in the show :(

               A morning like any other arrived. A one of dread, of gasping for breath, of a sharp intake of breath. The same one as always, well, ever since the month before arrived. The same dream played, all up until recently. Promises were made, a man was shot in black and white, and the lantern illuminated it all. But about four weeks ago, a newly, heart-aching dream appeared. Description was brief, it was nothing more than “Jesse?” and a second later, screams of pure agony and pain following. This man, this dread eating at him, snuck into his consciousness once again and created a new storm, something fresh out of the present time. A month ago, it didn't seem so bad. A month ago, things were the same. He'd wake up, and upon that, hear the usual “You awake, mate?” from the foreigner in the hallway as he peeked inside. The usual day would go by, the same routine played out: get up, get dressed, and live every day like it was his last. The same woman would pay a visit, and the same odd feeling of power would sneak up on him. Then, at the end of it all, the burning sensation from the liquids he drank brought him to bed. That was it. "Simple and easy" in his words. But yet, these past four weeks brought the depression that enveloped him years ago. This emotion embraced him with no warning, and now, it had him in its grip forever.

“Jesse?”

A scream, a terrible, ear-piercing scream of a woman. But that was the beginning. It progressed. A week later, another came,

“Jesse?”

A scream, resembling a teenage boy's, rang out in the man's ears. Another week passed.

“Jesse?”

A smaller boy's scream, almost as horrible as the woman's. But then, it came.

“Jesse?”

“Cassidy?” He found himself saying before his eyes opened, his vision fuzzy before it focused on the familiar ceiling of his room. God no, it couldn't be him. Why him? Why make him a part of the agony? He didn't scream. It wasn't there. What happened? Oh god, dear god no.

               All these words, his thoughts, raced in his mind as he sat up in a cold sweat, face paler than it had ever been. His stomach turned, his knuckles turning white when his fists clenched, and a few tears escaped his eyes for the first time in a long while. This man, this foreigner who came with “You awake, mate?” made him feel the emotion he hadn't felt in so long. The muscle, the organ, the heart inside ached and fluttered, had its own emotions when the man was around. He made him smile, made him laugh, made him feel happiness. They were connected deep down. They shared jokes, secrets, anything that could be named. It was a connection, but it was only under the skin, in their hearts, and not outside. The preacher knew his feelings, but didn't know of the others.

               But this was the cause to his tears, the pain in his heart. This was the issue. His heart throbbed for the man so much that he didn't want him to become injured, or even killed. He couldn't do it. This was his issue for weeks upon weeks, until one final morning, the foreigner entered earlier than usual, and found his preacher teary-eyed and sniffling.

“Padre…the hell's happened to you?” The man asked as he approached the other, carefully sitting down on the bed and resting a hand on his shoulder, “What's wrong?”

               The brown-haired male only shook his head and swiftly wiped away the tears, letting out a shaky sigh, “Just a bad dream.” He muttered before the Irishman next to him let out a scoff, “No lying,” He muttered as well, shaking his head, “Cough it up.”

“Cassidy, you ain't afraid of me, right?”

“Course not.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“You should be.“

“Very funny. Really. Now, what's the matter?”

                And that was it. The preacher shook his head and kept quiet, then rose up from his bed, dressed himself, and headed down towards the front doors with the nagging vampire behind him, “Hey now, don't go ignoring me like I'm some bloody believer who wants your help. I need to know what's wrong.”

               Before he could slip out another word, the man left, disappearing off into the day, leaving the foreigner behind with questions.

               Hours later, he re-appeared, more hammered than usual. He stumbled inside, his vision fuzzy again, and his words slurred as he stepped inside and hummed a tune, the vampire appearing in front of him a moment later and stopping his movements, “The hell you doing, mate? You're a mess. Sit down,” he said before the preacher before him grunted and shoved him away, heading to his room.

“Jesse, we got to talk,” the man would say, almost pleading. He was worried sick about this roommate of his. He didn't know what was wrong.

               Before, once again, he could speak, he was cut off by the disappearance of Jesse, who slammed his bedroom door shut. A sound of the bed creaking came, and then silence. He was asleep.

               Again, the nightmare happened. The same routine of waking up happened, yet this time, there was no foreigner to greet him with the same usual line. He was alone. Where had Cassidy gone? Out to drink? Possibly. But the van or truck wasn't gone. He's possibly sleeping more than usual? Maybe. But he checked every room. He's alone. Something was wrong. Cassidy was gone without a trace.

               But then, the thoughts came. What if he's actually dead and you don't know it? What if you killed him? It's your fault, they said, it's your fault. Anxiety hit him like a bus as he shook his head, thoughts dancing wildly along his brain as he began to shake. No, he didn't kill Cassidy. Everything was okay. But what if he did? What if he did and he didn't know it? What if Cassidy is no more?

               Months passed again. The dream never reached Cassidy's scream, only “Jesse?”. His mind was a wreck. He was paranoid, afraid to be near or even touch Cassidy. Sunday morning masses were cancelled, and he found himself neglecting his smokes and alcohol. It felt as if he was drunk all the time at this point. He hallucinated. He saw Cassidy dead, and everyone else around him, pointing to him, saying “You did this”. And he would reply with “No, no, not me”.

Finally, the idea unlike any other came. And with that, he grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote it all down.

                The vampire did disappear for the day, of course, traveling and taking care of errands. His friend had gone insane, and he decided to grab a few things that may cheer him up: smokes and alcohol. Upon arriving, he noticed how dimly lit it was in the church, and it had grown dark, so this took him by surprise a little bit. Maybe, for once, the preacher had grown tired and hit the hay early. Well, the door creaked open easily, and he stepped inside, looking around for the familiar man.

“Jesse?” He quietly asked as he looked around, eventually reaching the room of the altar and pews. The door was slightly ajar, and he opened it completely, the wooden mobile wall creaking even more than the front ones as it moved.

               The hard liquor broke as it touched the floor, the flimsy pack of smokes opening and throwing the cigarettes about. A loud gasp, resembling a tone of hurt, came from the vampire as he fell to his knees, shock embracing him as his eyes widened, and his heart stopped.

Before him was his friend, the preacher himself, perched up all the way near the ceiling, slowly moving from left to right, the rope hugging his neck which held him there.

“J…Jesse?” The man said, his voice quivering as he rose and swiftly ran and found his way to the ladder the man used to get himself up there in the first place. He climbed up it faster than he'd ever moved before, and ever so gently, yet swiftly, took the man down from his hanging place and brought him to the ground, laying him there, checking his pulse. Cold. Colder than the winter itself. There was nothing.

“…You…dumb bastard. You dumb bastard.” The vampire repeated over and over as he stared at the man, tears sitting at the edge of his waterline as he shook his head, “Dumb bloody bastard. What did you do to yourself?” He asked, a sniffle coming from him as he clenched the other's shirt in his hand, “Dumb bastard! Talk to me! You can't...you can't be gone,” he said, “speak!” He commanded, but all that responded back was his echo.

               And there it was. A piece of something sticking from his pocket. He pulled it out, revealing itself as an envelope, the name on the front, scribbled in, was "Cassidy". He opened it quickly, the paper inside unfolding before him as he began to read aloud the following short words:

“ _Cassidy,_

_I love you. I'm making this quick for you. This ain't no lie. This is from me, the real me, the one deep down inside who's not really here anymore. Cassidy, I love you. I'm sorry you're seeing those words here and not hearing them. I'm so sorry, Cassidy. You're no Christian or Catholic or whatever man, but I'm asking you to forgive me for what I've done. You won't, but I'm asking you to. Cassidy, you know what they say about the dead people, right? They'll always be right beside you. And you know I'll always be beside you. I'm never gonna leave you. Know that. I'm so sorry Cassidy. I love you._

_I love you,  
Jesse Custer_ ”

“…Cheesy bastard,” The male muttered, his tears staining the page before him as he let out a broken chuckle, “why couldn't you be here to say it to me face? Christ, Jesse, why? Why'd you do it?” He asked, the pain inside him eating at his heart as he sobbed over the man he wanted to spend his life with, “Jesse, wake up! Dammit, wake up!” He commanded, but nothing, of course.

               Hours passed. The night tore him apart, it being filled with sorrow and grief. But then, the sun peeked out beyond the horizon, and the idea similar to the man he enjoyed's appearing in his mind. He took his preacher's body and carried him outside, sitting down on the front steps of the church, his eyes meeting with the sun as it ever so slowly rose.

“Jesse,” he started, “you dumb bastard. I might as well be with your stupid arse, too. Im coming with you too. Got nothing left here. Stupid. Such a stupid bastard. I'm coming for you. Coming for you so I can hear you say those bloody words. Be there, okay? Be there. Be there, Jesse Custer. I'm gonna kick your arse,” He said, a weak chuckle leaving him as a moment later, the skin holding him together began to peel and burn, and a cry of agony ran out after an hour passed. He, too, was gone without warning. Nothing but a pool of almost ashes was left, and the limp body laid there, embraced in it.

               That day, the sun shined brighter than any other. The sky's were blue, and not a single cloud hid it. The weather was quite beautiful, and the church that stood in it all was quiet. The doors opened and shut, the wind running through it as the usual girl came along, let out a scream, and sobbed over the body of the man she once knew as well.

               But that day, that very day, the town knew of the absence of Jesse Custer and his right hand man, Cassidy. The church was too quiet, the townspeople's emotions weren't expressed to the preacher, and the familiar purple car didn't seem to appear ever again there, for that driver also felt grief and sorrow. The sky was blue that day, the sun shined and overpowered any nightmares down below. The two, wherever they were, were dancing to songs of their own choices, hands in the others hands as they danced, muttering sweet, loving words to each other, such as the ones everyone knows:

“ _I love you_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it sucks @Rory!! I rushed it :(


End file.
